Heightened Senses
by Lakritzwolf
Summary: It's full moon tomorrow, Angua is edgey because of an absence of attention and can't sleep. But then, so can't Commander Vimes. AnguaxVimes. One Shot.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own DW or any character. I only do things to them, or make them do things.  
**Featuring:** Sam Vimes and Angua  
**Note:** Slash, but no violence/brutality involved.  
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It was the night before full moon, and Angua stared out of the window of Captain Carrot's room. Behind her, stretched out on the narrow bed, was Carrot, soundly asleep and gently snoring, and here she stood, staring at the moon, feeling her bones itch and her skin crawl.

Here she stood, and her lover asleep, and she hadn't had him in weeks. Weeks. In fact, since the last fulll moon had just turned. That was the last time they had been in bed together, and Carrot had almost fallen asleep while doing it, as well. He had been working so hard, the poor chap, and Angua hardly blamed him.

No, that was a lie. She hugged herself as she started at the moon whose bright light had already left an impression on her retina. She did blame him. Nobody had asked him to, he had done so completely by himself. Since little Sam Vimes jr. Had been born, in fact.

Carrot, being the man he was, had had nothing better to do than work more and more, as to take as much as he could of Vimes' hands to make him able to spend time with his family. And it was, as so often, completely altruistic, because it was Carrot that was doing it. Anybody else, Angua knew, would long have been suspected of brown-nosing at least. But not Carrot, noble, honest Carrot.

So he had worked until he almost passed out at the desk, had walked patrol after patrol, and she, Angua, had tried to keep up with him to be at least in his presence. But that had made it, somehow, worse. Coppers were coppers, and no contact, however small, was allowed. And Carrot would not even think of it, the way she knew him. So she had just been with him, stared at him, desired him, but he had never, not once in the past four weeks, done more than looking at her, lest alone touch.

And now it would be full moon tomorrow night, and she was so filled with carnal desire that for the first time since she had come to Ankh-Morpok, she wondered if killing a chicken would be sufficient, wondered even if she could have any influence at all any more and what she would be doing then. The thought frightened her.

Nothing could be done about this any more, anyway, yet sleeping seemed out of question with Carrot's warm and familiar body filling up the bed so that her only options were to snuggle in beside him or to roll up on the floor. Both were equally appalling, so she shrugged with a sigh and silently left the room.

She thought of making a cup of tea, but as she silently walked along the corridor, she saw light shining under Commander Vimes' door.  
What on earth was the man doing here at that hour, and why on earth wasn't he home? Whatever it was, Angua decided to make two cups of tea, for sleeplessness was easier to bear if there were two of you.  
Vimes had not heard her, his voice was confused as he answered her soft knock on his office door. "Come in...?"

"Tea?" Angua shoved the door shut with her foot and smiled. "I saw the light under the door and thought, if you can't sleep as well, you might care for a cup of tea."  
"You know I don't particularly like the stuff, but thank you nontheless, Seargent."  
"I'm off duty right now, Commander."  
"So am I."

As Angua put the cup down on his desk, she realised that Vimes looked like he was in the third or fourth of a row of sleepless nights, he was ill-shaven and unkempt as well.  
"Is something wrong, Sir?"  
"What should be wrong?" Vimes took his teacup and inhaled the steam without looking at her. "Why don't you think I just enjoy it, brooding the night away here at my desk for good old times' sake?"  
As an answer, Angua lifted one brow as she sipped her tea, and Vimes shrugged.

"Can't sleep, it's as simple as that. Don't know, really, what it is. Sybill sleeps well enough."  
"She has had a hard time the last four weeks..."  
"So she had." Vimes looked up then, lifting both his brows as if to dare her to say he hadn't. Angua tilted her head, realising that Vimes suddenly looked more strained than tired, and wondered why. Maybe if she just took his bait...  
"I'm sure you had, too." What was making her feel so uneasy, all of a sudden?

"You could say that." Vimes leaned back, and behind him in the fireplace a log broke in a shower of sparks, outlining him in reddish light. "It's not easy for Sybill, and it isn't for me, neither. She's up and about at every possible and impossible hour of night or day, and I can't do a thing to help her."

She took another sip of her tea as she contemplated this. He wasn't lying, but he was somehow not telling the complete truth. But at that moment Vimes leaned forward again, and Angua, her senses heightened by the looming full moon, caught a whiff of his smell, and her brain made the connection between these two facts.

Yes, a new mother had a lot on her mind, recovering from the exhaustion of giving birth and coping with the babe and everything. But, there was one thing a new mother would certainly not have on her mind. And Vimes, having a woman to call his own for the first time in his live, since he had married Sybil, wasn't able to cope with the loss of it.  
The man reeked of sexual frustration.

So did she, for that matter, only that Vimes wasn't able to realise it. But maybe it was better like this. Who knows what...  
What, indeed?

And, driven by an urge she did not care to name, Angua put down her teacup and walked around his chair, coming to halt behind him and putting her hands on his shoulders.

His muscles were knotted like gnarled wood, he must have been nodding off with his head on the desk for more than one night now. Her fingers, long, slender and quite strong, moved over the knotted mass of his shoulders and nape and Vimes actually sighed, his head suddenly nodding. But at the same second his head nodded, he seemed to realise what was happening and stiffened again.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Seargent."  
"I said I'm off duty, Sir.  
"And I said, so am I", he replied, sounding a little strained. "I still think this is no good idea."

"Just relax, Sam", Angua replied, her hands still gently kneading his muscles. But at her words, Sam Vimes slowly turned his head and looked at her. Not shocked, not appalled, not even confused. More... calculating.

"Angua, I don't think this is appropriate...", he said, but Angua saw his adam's apple bob as he said this.  
"I am as neglected as you arrre..." Angua replied in a whisper, rolling the last word like a soft growl. Her hands had only to move a bit forward to rest on both his cheeks, and then she kissed him. But whatever resistance she might have suspected, it didn't happen.

His chair fell over, and only seconds later they were both on the floor, kissing like wild, greedy animals. His smell, of cigars, of come kind of herb cologne, and his own smell, so most definitely male, made her roll on her back under him, and he kissed her again, biting her face, her neck, her shoulders. Carrot had never smelled so arousingly male, he just smelled of soap and armor polish, with a hint, only a hint of Carrot underneath it.

Since Angua had only shirt and a pair of light trousers on, it took her only moments to get rid of them. Vimes wore nothing more than she did, except for his boots, but why bother? He did not necessarily have to take his pants off, for that matter.

A deep growl escaped Angua as he entered her, and her nails raked his back as he bit into her shoulder. Yes, Vimes was a man to know what he wanted, and to take it when it was offered to him. But then, so did she. It was a wild, fierce, but short experience that left them both gasping, Vimes lying on top of her with his face buried at her shoulder.

Feeling sudenly more relaxed than she had in weeks, she tousled his hair a bit as she contemplated how different this had been to what she usually shared with Carrot. Caring, considerate Carrot. He always took so much care, tried so infuriatingly carefull to do everything right. At one point she had actually lost her nerve once and had screamed at him: "Why the hell can't you not just give me a shag!?" and had, of course, recieved a blank and confused stare as an answer.

All the more confused had he been as she had burst out laughing the next day when he had, shyly but with a loving smile, offered her the little silver box.  
"I don't honestly know what you would need fine-cut tobacco for", he had said, and Angua had not been able to surpress the hysterical fit then. He had not understood, was confused and a little hurt, and so she had had to make up for it again. Gentle, considerate, and caring.

Sometimes, it was fine to be treated as something so precious.

Sometimes, though, it wasn't. Sometimes all she wanted was to be posessed, to be taken, to be the female and submit to the alpha. Just like this, she thought as she looked at Vimes slowly lifting his head. She smiled, and Vimes, a drop of sweat trickling down his temple, lifted his eyebrows. "I can't imagine Sybil would..."

Angua put her forefinger over his lips and smiled, a flick of her upper lip to reveal a slightly sharpened canine. "No one need ever know", she whispered, and Vimes shook his head.  
"I sincerely hope so", he murmured, and heaved himself upright.

Hugging her knees she watched him put on his trousers and buckle his belt, and as he looked up again she smiled. He lifted an eyebrow, and Angua recognised the signal, there would be no second time.

Not tonight, at least. She dressed herself, emptied her cup, and took both her and Sam's cup down to the tea kitchen to wash. And as she walked down the stairs, she realised she would cherish the smell of cigars and tea for a long time to come.


End file.
